Back to Skool

 
It was just May, and the school year ended; it seemed like only three months ago.  Actually, it was.  August, to me, was the downhill slope of vacation time and the quick approach of another dreadful school year.

 

Family vacations in our modest hometown were rare and short, revolving around the factory maintenance and available money to escape the city for a few days.

 

People who had access to “camps” on forest land or lakes were fortunate enough to be gone, but not the less fortunate such as me, who were subject to making a few dollars mowing lawns, cleaning-up overgrown yards, or even caddying on the municipal golf course.

 

During this dismal time most money we earned through menial tasks was saved, only to be spent come August to purchase pieces of school uniforms that our parochial school required.

 

Our uniforms consisted of charcoal gray slacks, black dress shoes, a white shirt, and plaid tie.  The girls’ uniform was a plaid jumper, white blouse, white sock, and black patent leather shoes.  These combinations were unique to our particular school to differentiate our juvenile delinquents from those of other parochial schools.  But I digress.

 

Those uniform purchases included several of each ensemble to facilitate washing rotations and extra sets in case of playground mishaps.

 

Any additional money went to needed pencils, paper, protractors, colored pencils, pens, and binders.  My parents insisted last year’s book bag was still useable, just as it was from the previous year.  Hint: When purchasing a book bag and lunchbox, choose wisely.

 

I didn’t need to worry about that lunchbox thing because we were flush with brown paper bags, FYI.

 

In any case, as an adult out of elementary school for nearly 50-years, I now find it amazing how and what school supplies are incorporated into children’s lives.

 

Today, we are on the cusp of dutiful television news stations’ annual campaign to instill guilt into the minds of unsuspecting citizens in communities across America.

 

This flood of guilt-to-feel good emotion begins simply enough.  A small advertising blurb mentions how kids will be going back to school and desperately need supplies.  Those supplies include pencils, paper, protractors, colored pencils, pens, and binders, not unlike my list from a half-century ago.

 

The difference is these modern day ads include the need for backpacks, pencil cases, and the latest fashions for both girls and boys.  And of course, those fashions are different from last year’s, and far more expensive.

 

Here’s where the fun begins.

 

If you’d like to reread today’s story anew, please feel free to go back to the top and do so.  You may remember how I worked mowing lawns, cleaning up overgrown yards, and washing smoke-baked walls for local widows, to earn money to buy this same stuff.

 

We didn’t have video games or summer sports camps, rather we had bicycles and local parks, whiffle balls and bats, and imaginations.  Our parents weren’t wealthy, they were hard working.

 

They filled-in the gaps for the money my sister and I needed for our supplies and uniforms, and they did without for themselves until more money was available.

 

Our car – yes, car – singular, was a modest Ford; we couldn’t afford a second car.  There were no SUV’s, and no mention of handouts of any sort.  We bought what we could afford and only that.  Period.

 

Today, kids are raised under an umbrella of privilege expecting only the best and without delay.  Not having to work, kids from ages twelve to twenty-four, and beyond, have little sense of responsibility.  They never held a basic job which teaches a person how to tell time, get along with others, take the initiative, and handle money.

 

I couldn’t find a kid to help me spread 80-bags of mulch, so I hired a 51-year old hungry roofer to do the job.  He needed the cash and was delighted to make a couple of bucks to help with household bills.  At least he knows the mechanics of work and reward.

 

So when these school kids begin making the rounds to sell wrapping paper, overpriced candy, and other crap for their schools, they should not be surprised to hear a resounding “NO!”  They would be wise to read this story for a thorough explanation why.

 

Let their parents fork over some dough for their school supplies instead of buying a giant SUV, or make their kids get odd jobs to gain something called “work ethic.”  That is something even the wealthiest of the wealthy can buy – much like a personality.

 

This year should begin a new era of teaching kids, and parents alike, about how life really works and how to be either a success or a failure.  The choice is yours.  Put the critical race theory material aside and learn how to get along and function in the real world.

 

Otherwise, a terrible disappointment for both parents and their progenies is just over the school horizon.  Then it’s too late.

Olympic Fever

 Once again, I'm recycling another spectacular story from nearly a decade ago that is germane to today's climate.  Please enjoy until my return next week.  And thanks for reading.

Olympic Fever

Not Michael Phelps

Every four years we are deluged by the Olympics.  This year, the summer Olympics are being held in London  and things there are going well for nearly every country except Uzbekistan who, as of this writing, has one bronze medal.

Most folks are into the Olympics, even if they don’t watch other sports such as football, baseball, or other decisive, competitive sports.  I believe this is because people can cheer for their home country which builds nationality, or a as Leftists call it, jingoism.

Patriotism is a good thing.  Feeling part of a winning team, thought, or lifestyle, can be satisfying and can enrapt the viewers while encouraging a sense of belonging.

There are several Eastern Shore area participants in this 2012 Olympics, two of whom are sailors.  Another local participant could be a gymnast but, I’m not sure.  There’s probably a runner in this mix, too.

Running, jumping, swimming, and even basketball, are all sports events that test one’s mettle.  Finishing first requires great skill which comes with practice, coaching, training, and determination, coupled with individual proficiency culminating in a win by finishing first, second, or third, thereby winning a medal.

But, there are those events that are subjective such as diving, balancing on that wooden beam thing, apoplectic tumbling, and that stuff women do with a stick and ribbon.  Judges watch such events and give their best guess as to who the winner is.  What I feel is good, they do not.  Some of these athletes appear to have just arrived from that television show, “You Call That Dancing?”  In no way does doing summersaults to music on a mat reflect a real sport any more than bass fishing does.  Sure, it requires talent and skill, but…

And dressage events seem to require more talent from the horse than the rider, unless the roles are reversed.  Badminton and beach volleyball?  Really?  Where does someone in land-locked countries learn to play beach volleyball?  Golfing is making its debut in 2016.  I’m waiting for beer drinking to be introduced.  Can fruit carving be next?

Gold medals for first, silver for second, and bronze for third place adorn the winners.  It must suck to be fourth.  Still, second place is merely the first loser.

Michael Phelps, the golden boy of the pool, has won a record number of gold medals.  In fact, he has so much gold around his neck, he resembles Mr. T.  Forget his scandal a few years back with that bong in his mouth.  He’s America’s hero. 

Another irritant is the woman who is appearing in her fourth Olympics.  Some quick ciphering makes her roughly 40-years old.  I would think that a country with 350,000,000 people could find another participant who is at least as good to compete in their first event instead of wheeling this woman out on a gurney.

People train from early youth with special coaches in first-rate facilities, for hours on end, year after year.  They are fit, both mentally and physically, and should be the absolute best a country has to offer.  I wish the Americans well and hope the best-of-the-best win their events.  And, so does the federal government.

It seems as though each medal winner gets money from the government.  Gold, silver, and bronze medal recipients get $25,000, $15,000, and $10,000, respectively.  They also get tax bills for the medals themselves, upward of $5,000 each.  That’s a nice way of saying “thanks” from Uncle Sam.

So, I’m not sure what irritates me more:  The fact that “amateur” competitors receive a stipend from the government, or that the powers-that-be tax these athletes who encourage patriotism.

Safe, Again!

 

Clever disguise

This post is a reprint from nearly ten years ago.  Every word is true which makes this story especially frightening.  Please enjoy until I return from vacation.

The FWC has finally captured the most famous, wily, and well-known escapee in the history of Florida – a fellow named Cornelius.

It seems as though Cornelius escaped from captivity and his shrewd ways have kept him free for four years.  Yes, Cornelius has outsmarted the hapless people employed by FWC and now has been remanded to serve his time in a cage.

Cornelius, after all, is a rhesus macaque monkey, and has demonstrated skills eluding those FWC professionals who mostly spend their time doing something mysterious, especially their jobs.

If this sounds a bit harsh, it is because I had an unpleasant encounter with FWC baboons, er, representatives in 2010.  On a road trip to Florida via back then, my sainted wife – who has no sense of humor – asked, on desolate Route 121 in Williston in The Sunshine State, if I had seen the monkey.  I hadn’t, for if I had seen it I would have mentioned it first.

In any case, she apparently thought this primate was waiting on the side of the road – with no broken down vehicle in the vicinity – merely standing there watching the sparse traffic pass.  He didn’t even waved to us.

Upon our arrival at our destination, we mentioned this less-than usual episode and the excitement began.  We were told that this monkey, whose name was not known at that time, was on the lam and that FWC personnel were actively seeking information as to his whereabouts.  This cunning critter was somehow eluding the highly trained, well-equipped FWC by running and climbing real fast, maybe even employing disguises.  On an aside, I find that the eyeglasses, nose, and mustache combination works really well.  But, I digress.

At the behest of our Florida friends and family, I contacted the FWC headquarters to dutifully report this long-awaited sighting.  Things didn’t go well when the first person with whom I spoke had no clue as to what I was referring, although this story had been in the newspaper and on the radio and TV news, for at least a year.

It wasn’t until the fourth transferred phone call and a final berating by FWC personnel – that I had contacted the wrong region – it became clear the FWC phones were possibly manned by primates in cahoots with their freedom-loving comrade.

Yes. It certainly appeared to be a concerted effort to aid and abet this at-large miscreant.

For those reading this outside of Florida, this calculating monkey, who FWC told me they never heard of, even had a Facebook page, and was urged – no lie – to run for the office of Mayor of Tampa.  Locals were feeding him peanuts and cookies and fruit, and helping him hide from FWC folks, who likely couldn’t find water if they fell out of a boat, much less a rhesus macaque monkey.  We Virginia folks refer to this as ‘doing your job.’

As of a few days ago, Floridians have been able to rest safely since Cornelius’ capture.  I can imagine shades of Bonnie and Clyde’s final ride when hearing about this volume of ineptitude that allowed Cornelius to bite a woman on the back, which caught the attention of FWC.  Some Florida hero used a tranquilizer gun to sedate Cornelius, and another person wrestled this unexpectedly large monkey until both tired.

Who published the original ‘be on the look-out’ if they weren’t interested in pursuing this matter is my big question. 

But it seems like a bargain paying those FWC phone answerers with peanuts and cookies and fruit. 

Team Clown

At last, our nation has reached a milestone in fairness, at last.  Maybe.  Almost.  Soon, perhaps.

 

For decades our nation has been slowly evolving into a country of misinformed whiners over many things.  One of those things is the minimum wage.

 

Last time I looked the minimum wage stood at $7.25/hour.  That is not an insignificant amount of money, although as an entry level salary it is better than nothing.

 

People have argued for decades about something they call a “living wage.”  A living wage is an amount of money a person needs to earn in order to live comfortably.  And there are a lot of nebulous words both in and omitted from that sentence designed to equally misinform and confuse.

 

Upon examination, there is no mention about the background of an employee.  Is the hire new to the workforce?  Has the new hire brought a lot of baggage along from a previously-failed job?  Can they actually arrive to work on-time, or at all?

 

Living comfortably is another word salad that is often misconstrued by the reader.  My idea of living comfortably is quite different from Jeff Bezos’ idea.  Is there a career path involved with the work position?  How about health insurance and paid time off?

 

All these must be factored in to the equation when discussing job, particularly minimum wage jobs.

 

My third job was still a minimum wage job which took me far away from home.  There. I needed to find an apartment, acquire transportation, buy food, purchase laundry detergent, buy a 12” black and white television which sat upon a tray table, and purchase enough roach spray to control the population of non-rent-paying critters.

 

If you’re thinking that I don’t know how tough it is to survive under those circumstances, you are clearly mistaken.  But, I’m old.  Minimum wage in days of yore – I’m so old they discontinued my blood type – was a whopping $2.10/hour.

 

The only way I foresaw escaping that treadmill of squalor was to achieve more knowledge through more education and hard work.  Today’s whiners do just that: whine until they get a raise.  For your information, the federal minimum wage will reach $15/hour in a few short years to grease those squeaky wheels.  But I digress.

 

Along with the minimum wage debate is a new element called “social justice.” 

 

Another cloudy term that escapes actual definition, the words “social justice” relies upon the reader’s personal definition of how something should be rather than how it actually is.

 

Pandering politicians, B-list movie actors, has-been athletes, and other publicity whores, are all clamoring for attention aboard the newly-launched social justice train.

 

Once again, something non-existent or altogether insignificant has soared onto the apex of societal tripe, often with the proverbial pot calling the kettle black.

 

“Wokeness” is a term created to help minorities overtake civil conversation and demeanor with riots, looting, and racial animus toward anything and everything non-Black.

 

It’s an old tactic used throughout the world by strong arm dictators and Socialistic and Communistic thugs, alike, for generations.  This time, however, it is different.  It is happening in the United States of America.

 

The less affluent are being goaded into believing they are “owed” more money rather than “earning” more money, that they “deserve” free educations, free health care, free telephones, free housing, and only the best jobs that can be offered.  They have been lied to.

 

If you don’t think so, read on.

 

There’s a fellow named LeBron James.  He’s a basketball player.  He’s Black.  He makes lots of money.  Lots and lots and lots of money.

 

Worth every penny of $162 per second

James’ contract for four years is $153,312,846; that is $38,300,000 per year.  Not good enough?

 

That translates into $467,000 per game played, $117,000/quarter $9,700 per minute, or $162 a second.  Remember the $15/hour minimum wage?

 

It seems a though James has become a powerful voice in the racial injustice movement, saying racial injustice “remains part of everyday life in America and cannot be ignored.”

 

Alas, James is not the stand-up, let’s all rally around group that he likes to make his creepy, racist world appear.  James is all for equal treatment of Blacks, while exhibiting anti-White bias.  How so?

 

His team of racists – largely constituted of extra-tall Blacks – feels it necessary to play those Black players more than their White players.  Of the 17 players on the Lakers, only one can be considered White.  Hardly the diversity Team Clown James espouses at the public microphone.

This sort of selective indignation crosses the border of crocodile tears well into the realm of blatant bigotry.

 

Stop buying into LeBron James’ sordid world of equality.  It’s nothing that applies to the real world.

Berry, Berry Bad

 
We are quickly approaching the beginning of the 2020 Tokyo Summer Olympics, and as you may have noted, it’s a bit tardy.

 

Sure, it’s 2021, but something called COVID-19 reared its ugly head for well over a year, summarily cancelling and postponing many, many activities and event along the way.  These games are no exception.

 

By way of background, the first Olympic Games began in ancient Greece in the 8^th century BC.  Throughout time it evolved into a world-wide event with nearly every nation participating, as well as expanding to include winter events in a separate and distinct competition.

 

Traditionally, amateur athletes represented their countries in any number of sporting events – Summer Games include track and field; gymnastics; basketball, baseball, and other team sports; swimming, and fencing.  Winter Games consist of skiing; ice skating; figure skating; pentathlon; sledding; and team sports such as ice hockey; all of which are divided by sex.

 

After a wide gap in the cessation of the ancient Olympics, they were restarted in the modern times in 1896 in Athens, Greece; they were enthusiastically received and have been continued and modified since.

 

Tokyo earned the right to host the 2020 Olympic Games, only to have them deferred due to a world-wide pandemic.  This iteration of the modern Summer Games has been much–awaited as a way to “normalize” society after quarantine from COVID-19.

 

As of late, a smattering of news about the list of possible participating athletes has been leaking out as results of qualifying events become known.  It seems only patriotic to be proud of these athletes who will ultimately represent America, and natural to throw support behind the individuals who may become cultural icons for us and future generations, alike.

 

In grade school, I learned about a fellow named Jesse Owens.  Owens was a Black man who overcame racial animosity in the United States.  His athletic abilities enabled him to earn a spot on the U.S. Olympic Team during the buildup of Nazism in pre-WWII Germany.

 

Germany’s Chancellor, and later Führer, Adolph Hitler, was attempting to genetically create a master race of so-called Aryans, who he thought would be able to conquer the world to make it his.

 

Owens, who Hitler thought inferior because of his race, soundly defeated the German athletes to win four gold medals, infuriated Hitler, while rallying all Americans during tense times on the cusp of world chaos.

 

Fast forward to 2021 and the United States’ current list of potential Olympians.

 

Someone named Gwen Berry popped up as a third place finalist for the USA hammer throw team.  Third place, for you sports virgins, is the second loser in competition.

 

Berry, a Black woman, made her modest achievement monumental by standing on the medal podium with the number one and two place finishers.  The odd thing was that Berry turned her back to the American flag while on that podium.

 

Later, when asked about this act of disrespect toward the flag, Berry claimed she knew nothing about the time of the playing of the National Anthem – something that is played at times specified weeks in advance.  Alas, she lied.

 

Because the National Anthem takes about two-minutes to play, Berry fiddled with a t-shirt with “Activist Athlete” printed thereon.  She eventually covered her head with it, although not in shame as she should have.

 

This exercise was merely a dry run inasmuch as these competitions were conducted to select athletes qualified enough to compete in the Tokyo Olympics.  Imagine the show, the display of “activism” Berry might mete out in the event of a podium stop in Tokyo.

 

If you have any doubts about hate for, and disrespect of, the United States by its citizens, please read on.

 

Evidently there is a BMX bicycle competition in the Olympics geared toward any child-like individual without genuine athletic talent.  BMX is an event where participants ride specially-designed bicycles around a bumpy dirt track in an effort to jump and twist in mid-air to earn points.

 

It so happens that a BMX Freestyle rider made some news the other day to punctuate the fact about Americans hating America and fellow Americans.

 

A man, who identifies as a transgender woman, Chelsea Wolfe, has been named as an alternate to represent the United States in Tokyo.  If you thought that was the good news, please read on.

 

Wolfe made the statement in a Facebook posting – the same Facebook that banned President Donald Trump because of hateful messages – which said he/she wanted to win the Olympics so that he/she could burn the American flag on the podium.

 

Not to be outdone in the media whore category, a woman runner, Sha’Carri Richardson, a medal hopeful winner, actually came in first in her sprint race to qualify for the Olympics.

 

That’s the good news.  The bad news is Sha’Carri failed her drug test for marijuana, a substance banned by the IOC.  With her red hair flowing, Sha’Carri addressed a reporter about her unfortunate run-in with following rules.  She told the reporter she was only human; President Joe Biden agreed with her.  ‘Nuff said.  

 

Meanwhile, all sorts of wanna-be newsmakers offered their opinions of all three of these aforementioned instances of people’s inability to obey rules and regulations.  Many pundits took the side of turning a blind eye to any and all violations in favor of creating a lawless society.

 

It doesn’t matter to the athletes, media, or even many Americans that rules of participation are flaunted.  This is a microcosm of society-in-general as is evidenced by senseless shootings, rampant drug use, disingenuous reporting of news by the media, and lack of candor from politicians.

 

Now is the time to ignore the Olympics, and cease funding of them altogether, to stop these crazies and their associated acts of contempt.  If they want to hate this great country, let them hate it on their dime, not mine, or let them break the rules elsewhere.

Crisis Du Jour

 Let’s begin today’s special venture by defining the word “crisis.”

 

According to Wikipedia, “A crisis is any event or period that will lead, or may lead, to an unstable and dangerous situation affecting an individual, group, or all of society…”

 

That being said, we can now examine the creative ways society, in general, the main stream media (MSM), in particular, have been bastardizing this word.

 

Upon the election of President Donald J. Trump, in November 2016, the MSM immediately began a campaign of vilifying President Trump because he was, well, President Trump.

 

Primarily composed of Socialist Democrats and Democrats and Leftists, the drum banging to make people aware of this “crisis” started before all the ballots were counted.

 

Simply electing a man who roughly only half the country voted for was enough for the weak minded to become apoplectic for no other reason than he was not a politician, and had no place in Washington, D.C., much less the White House.

 

Adding extra big words to “crisis” was a brilliant attempt to make the stupid sound intelligent.  Words such as “existential” and “catastrophic” merely added to the dire nature of nothing.  Insert the words “pragmatic solution,” and you have intellectual elitists leading Americans around by a nose ring.

 

For instance, all across the airwaves “existential crisis” flowed on a daily basis.  Not to continue her irrelevance, Congressclown Maxine Waters regularly popped-up like a turd in the punchbowl, shrieking for President Trump’s impeachment.  It didn’t seem to matter he hadn’t even been sworn-in, Mr. Trump needed to be stopped because of a perceived existential crisis.

 

These tactics are not new, though.  Such urgency was introduced into the debate lexicon long ago in the 1970’s.  Back then, something novel reached the public via school indoctrination – not unlike the everything-is-racist movement blanketing America today.

 

The then-1970’s existential crisis was the neo-science that began driving our country off the financial cliff called “global cooling.”  Global cooling was a term coined to encompass ways to trip up America in its race for a combination of world dominance and world peace.

 

Monies and resources were quickly shuffled, by Socialist Democrats, like a 3-card Monte scheme.  Social programs were stopped in an effort to re-apportion assets to better fight this imminent death sentence on Mother Earth.  This existential crisis involved ALL nations to board the save-the-planet train, with only modest success.

 

Other countries, as it so happens, would have none of that.  In fact, while they gladly latched onto the existential crisis of global cooling, they willfully ignored those same regulations that applied to them, too.  It seems as though the existential crisis was not that much of a crisis.  Still, the drum beat steadily in a call to action.  But I digress.

 

In any case, that crisis morphed into “global warming.”  Inconveniently enough, that existential cooling crisis was miscalculated and had now morphed into a warming crisis.  No kidding.

 

And so began a trip down the proverbial rabbit hole.  This existential crisis, like most others, is a solution looking for a problem.

 

Even though President Trump is long gone from the White House, more and more existential crises are discovered daily.  And the Left are attempting to blame him for anything and everything.

 

Mere moments after his swearing-in as President Trump’s replacement, Joseph Robinette Biden began signing one executive action after another under the premise of curtailing the next existential crisis.

 

His haplessness caused a dramatic and dangerous influx of illegal aliens to stream across our Southern border.  Unfortunately, those law-ignoring trespassers have created another existential crisis for us from a personal safety, and economic perspective, alike.

 

While concerned about COVID-19 vaccines, these illegal aliens are free to roam about the United States without tests, vaccinations, masks, or scans for tuberculosis.  This seems to be an existential crisis, in my eyes.

 

But that’s not enough.  Medical care-for-all is considered an existential crisis, as is child care, free internet access, racism, police funding, climate change, election fraud, social justice, Donald Trump, words, college tuition, economic depression, gay pride, pollution, Donald Trump supporters, Critical Race Theory, a threat to stop killing babies, eating beef, non-organic foods, GMO foods, and the My Pillow guy, appear to invoke uncontrollable anguish in so many – too many – sheepish residents. 

 

Of course the simple addition of words like “existential crisis” and “pragmatic solution” enthrall the ignorant among us.  It’s time to quit teaching sex education and critical race theory in schools and begin teaching courses on American Pride and unity, along with analytical thinking based upon facts.

 

Everything is not an existential crisis. 

Surprise, Surprise

It was the middle of the night when I awoke from a sound sleep.  Not an unusual occurrence since I have a guilty conscience which precludes me from staying asleep all night long.  Well, that, as well as a bladder the size of a garbanzo bean which necessitates me visiting the bathroom keeps me awake beyond normal.

 

But enough of that.  I usually return to bed and quickly head back to the Land of Nod in very short order.  Except last night, that is.

 

Smokey the Cat joined me for a cup of Sleepytime Tea and a brief look at what was on television at 1:53 AM.  My best guess was nothing.  I was wrong.

 

Surfing through the 400+ channels certainly put a drain on the remote control batteries, until I reached the series of commercial channels.  It seems as though there were copious amounts of channels on which people hawk all sorts of things.

 

Pressure washers, shoes, knives, vitamins, adult diapers, and spatulas, were everywhere in a time frame called “safe harbor” hours.  Safe harbor hours are when all sorts of “things” are promoted for those people who have everything except a place to keep it.

 

You know the kind of stuff I’m talking about.  The magic pills that former professional athletes – those you never heard of – are now reduced to trying to sell as “male enhancement” in a pharmaceutical.

 

That’s the same crap they tried to sell you six-months ago with similar results, but before the Food and Drug Administration filed a lawsuit against them to cease selling a modern version of snake oil.

 

As luck would have it, I stumbled upon an hour-long commercial selling sex toys. 

 

What should have appeared on the TV

In case you think you misread that last sentence, feel free to go back.  I’ll wait for you.

 

In an attempt to satisfy Smokey’s curiosity – he is a cat, after all – I, too went back for more research.

 

Here’s some middle-aged woman, not unattractive, fumbling with a sex toy.  It was gyrating much like a freshly caught trout trying to escape into the cool, clear brook from which it was pulled moments ago.

 

A couple of furtive glances between and betwixt Smokey and I cemented the fact we had stumbled upon something that appeared to be questionable, or at least suitable, for television.

 

It really didn’t take long for me to skip ahead and find a sports channel that was showing competitive sweeping on ice.  They called it “curling.”

 

In any case, my already overactive mind shifted into overdrive and took me back to 1992.

 

Back then, the country was waist-deep in presidential elections.  To keep you here, William Jefferson Clinton was elected president after defeating George H.W. Bush, making him the first Black president of the United States.

 

During the months leading up to those contentious elections, the proverbial gloves came off to create a more-than-festive atmosphere of politicking. 

 

One issue that was on the horizon was abortion.  Abortion is the taking of a life by women; that life is an innocent, helpless baby that has been redefined as a “choice.”

 

Republicans are traditionally anti-abortion, a contorted way of intimating that saving lives of children is somehow detrimental to selfish, uncaring women.  More on that in a future article.

 

Republican candidates were running graphic television ads for candidates who both wanted to save babies, as well as against candidates who saw babies as disposable.

 

Those graphic ads showed how an abortion on a fetus in the uterus is killed, and then violently removed from the womb, to make women happy.

 

The commercials were banned as being offensive to young viewers and older viewers who found this actual procedure offensive to their sensibilities.  Oh, my.

 

The Federal Communications Commission decided to move these offensive commercials to those handy safe harbor hours, effectively precluding most of America from seeing how this medical niche functioned.

 

It may have been the Sleepytime Tea, but my mind immediately headed toward last week.  It was then when I saw an equally distasteful commercial BY THE FEDERAL GUVMENT to get people to stop smoking cigarettes.

 

That commercial featured a woman lying in a hospital bed dying of lung cancer because she smoked since her high school days, some 30-years ago.  This pitiful woman was gaunt, drawn, wrinkled, and clearly surgically manipulated, in efforts to save or prolong her life.  The end of this 30-second public service announcement declares how this woman passed away two-weeks after its filming.

 

Censorship was needed during international wars and terroristic attacks to permit the guvment’s use of propaganda.  But it remains alive an well directed by those in guvment power to control and manipulate our collective behaviors. 

 

Too bad censorship doesn’t apply to safe harbor hours, or the fabricating mainstream media.